Just off the key of reason
by 19thpersonality
Summary: Another ONESHOT. Garcia needs to fix something that has been bugging her for a very long time. Warnings: Reid-whump and mild swearing. And silliness.


**Another random ficlet before I scrounge up enough courage to tackle a multichapter. Warnings: Reid-whump and some mild swearing.**

**Disclaimer: see my profile. **

She had to do something. She couldn't stand it anymore. She couldn't sit by and watch this happen.

Penelope Garcia let out a long, relaxing breath. She was going to do this. Every now and then her conscience intervened and started to whisper doubtful words in her ear, but she knew if she was going to do something, now was the time. She couldn't back out anymore.

She heard his voice and then his footsteps. He was coming this way. It was now or never.

"Reid!"

Dr Spencer Reid jumped a bit when Garcia suddenly appeared from around the corner. Most people had either already gone home for the night or were preparing to. He'd just finished his last mug of coffee and was heading towards his desk to grab a couple of things before he would join them.

"Hey, I thought you'd gone home already."

Garcia smiled. She'd made everyone believe she had. Looks like it worked.

"Can you help me with something quick? It won't be a second."

"Sure," Reid said, gazed towards his desk, and then followed Garcia into her office. As usual, the light was low except for the glow from the multitude of screens. Reid noticed the extra chair placed strategically in the middle of the room.

"What is it?" Reid asked, frowning slightly at the odd sight. Then Garcia slammed the door shut and launched herself at Reid's back. He let out a yelp before he hit the ground.

"Garcia! What are you doing?" he shouted as she started wrestling him into the chair.

"I'm only doing this for your own good!" Garcia spouted. "I can't take the sight of your hair anymore!"

"What?" Reid exclaimed as Garcia finally managed to pin his arms down.

"You look like a spaniel! I can't have you walking around looking like a well-groomed Afghan!" Garcia searched her office with her eyes. "Damn, I need rope."

In this moment of distraction, Reid flung Garcia off him and threw himself at the door. He struggled with the knob for a second before Garcia got her hands on him again. He screamed like a girl, wriggled himself out of her grasp and escaped from the Office of Doom.

Prentiss almost dropped her coffee as Reid sprinted past her towards his desk.

"Reid?" she gaped.

There was no answer but a flurry of gangly arms as he grabbed his bag and stuffed things in his pockets, glancing over his shoulder at the door leading to Garcia's office. The door burst open revealing Garcia looping a length of network cable around her arm.

"Found it!" she cried, but Reid had already disappeared towards the elevators.

"What's going on?" Prentiss asked as Garcia hurried past her.

"Can't talk now," Garcia flashed her a quick, harried grin and sped off in the direction Reid had taken.

He jabbed the elevator button in quick succession, knowing full well it wasn't going to make the damn thing come faster. Hearing Garcia's voice not far off, Reid calculated his chances of escape if he waited for the elevator, which was three floors away, if the display above the doors was correct. He whirled around as he heard Garcia's heels click on the floor.

"There you are!" Garcia grinned manically and Reid leapt towards the stairs.

"Leave me alone!" His words echoed in the stairwell as he skipped three steps and touched down on the landing. He didn't waste time in taking on the next flight. Garcia kicked off her heels and set chase in earnest.

"You can run all you want, sweet cheeks, but eventually I _will_ catch up!"

"I like my hair the way it is, Garcia! And if you touch me-"

Reid's foot missed a step. Penelope heard a heavy thump and a surprised "Oof!" She leaned over the railings, grinned and took her time on the flight down. By the time she'd reached Reid, he'd gotten his breath back and had sat up on the steps.

"See? I told you I'd catch up."

"No, no, no, Penelope, please don't," Reid started to whimper as he edged away from her. Garcia grinned in satisfaction, started to unwind the network cable, then froze.

"Reid, has your wrist always been shaped like a question mark?"

**RGRGRGRGRGRGRGRGR**

The electronic PING! of the elevator woke Agent Hotchner from his semi-doze. Once again, he'd gotten the equivalent of half an hour of sleep. It was just past four, unusually early for even him, but he was at the BAU headquarters again. Hotch sighed, pressed his fingers to his eyes and headed straight for the kitchen area to pour some much-needed black nectar down his throat. Halfway there, he stopped and gazed at the strange sight in the bullpen.

Penelope Garcia sat across from Spencer Reid at the break table, her face stricken with guilt. Reid glared at her, but he seemed to be falling asleep, and the effect was reminiscent of an angry child up way past his bedtime. With his right arm in a sling. When Garcia saw Hotch frozen in mid-stride, she leapt up and wrung her hands while she racked her brain for a good excuse.

"Sir, I blame the caffeine entirely."

"What happened here?" Hotch finally said as Prentiss walked into the bullpen with two mugs of coffee. She handed one to Hotch and gave him an amused look.

"If she hadn't been chasing me, I wouldn't have fallen!" Reid exploded suddenly, then winced and fell into a dazed silence.

"Garcia chased Reid down the fire escape, he tripped and broke his wrist," Prentiss explained and took a gulp of coffee. "I had to take him to the Emergency Room because he refused to get into a car with Garcia."

"With reason!" Reid retorted again, blinking furiously to stay awake.

"I'm really, really sorry," Garcia said, blushing a bright pink.

"Why were you chasing him in the first place?" Hotch queried, confusion written clearly across his face. Garcia shifted her weight on her feet, looking sheepish.

"Don't you think Reid needs a haircut?"

Hotch glanced at Reid's head, then at his plastered forearm.

"What does his hair have to do with it?"

Garcia's gaze dropped to the floor.

"Sir, I have been working for a long time, and I think the copious amount of coffee I'd consumed had affected my judgement." Garcia's voice sank to a whisper. "I thought Reid could do with a haircut."

Reid's venomous stare intensified until his head started drooping and his concentration evaporated. Hotch scanned the deserted bullpen and raised his hands in exasperation. Mentally rebooting his mind, he set his face.

"Prentiss, will you take Reid home?" Reid started to protest at the mention of his name, but Hotch ignored the interruption. "He won't be of any use in this state. Garcia, you too. Go home. Take a day or two. When you come back, I expect you to be at full capability."

Garcia nodded, stole a glimpse at Reid, whose body had finally given up in the fight against the medication. She turned her back to head towards her office, but watched from the corner of her eye as Prentiss heaved Reid to his feet, allowing him to lean heavily on her, and half-dragged, half-carried him towards the doors.

"Garcia."

She turned around to face Hotch again.

"Sir?"

"I would suggest a present or some form of compensation. He'll get over it eventually." To her surprise, Hotch managed a smirk. "Though, next time, suggest a hairdresser."

**Hehe. I always struggle with endings. This one took me three days. Thanks for taking the time to read this silly burst of creativity. And, as always, if you have the time, please review! Even if it's only to say "what a load of bs". I'd really appreciate it.**


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